Sandra O'Connell

The age equation

By On February 21, 2015

Thirty-five. This always seemed like an adult age when I was not thirty-five. It felt old, ancient, unapologetically mature. But, now that I hold the number in my hands, I realize I… Read More

The Book

I wrote a book

By On December 23, 2014

It sounds weird. Those four words. I wrote a book. Not real. Not actual. Not alive yet. It was a frustrating and arduous and incredible process. And now it’s done. Sort of.… Read More

World Map

Who am I? Where am I from?

By On December 11, 2014

I am not one person. I am not from one place. My body and brain contain a combination of characters – a lead and many supporting. My personality shifts and morphs depending… Read More

Brooklyn Car Doors

Brooklyn bites

By On November 18, 2014

I have been bitten by Brooklyn. A love bruise has surfaced. Violet, mauve, lilac, crimson. Teeth marks, lip marks, life marks. I am swollen with stimulation. Ablaze with inspiration. Pulsing with drive.… Read More

In flight

The stillness of flight

By On September 20, 2014

I’m coming down. From dehydration. Intoxication. Fatigation – not a word, but it works. I feel like I’ve been away for a month. Not two weeks. Vancouver to Toronto to New York… Read More

Touch - Helmut Newton

Touch me

By On September 2, 2014

I touch things. Feel. Pet. Caress. I connect with my hands. My arms. My lips. My feet. I’m writing this while my insoles are being massaged with knowledgeable knuckles. My calves are… Read More